


Respite

by ArgentGale



Series: Trash Compactor [5]
Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Tarkrennic - Freeform, arguing like an old married couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/pseuds/ArgentGale
Summary: Wilhuff Tarkin gets to be quite a bastard after being cooped up in a Star Destroyer for too long.  Orson has the perfect solution, a few days rest with fresh air and sunshine.  Just a little bit of Tarkrennic tenderness for a prompt fill.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fun little prompt fill. Le gasp...Orson Krennic actually considering the needs of others? *clutches pearls* sakes alive! I'd say this is about as "fluffy" as I'd get for Tarkrennic. Cuz they are both such bitches. (But we love them, yes?)

“You are becoming insufferable.” Orson snarled after a ridiculous and yet rather heated argument on whose turn it was to fetch the morning’s caf. “Stars you are being such a bastard.”

Orson had the misfortune of learning that these…episodes…of Wilhuff being sharp, short tempered, and all around just plain miserable often came about after extended periods without the caress of fresh air and kiss of sunlight.  The stale, recycled air of the Executrix seemed to tax Wilhuff to the point he almost became miserable in his own skin resulted in these terse verbal skirmishes.

 

“Then stop testing me.” Wilhuff had sniffed, his ill temper conveyed in the brusque movement of his hands as they fastened his tunic.

Orson knew that when Wil was in such a mood, it could be rather dangerous to offer physical comfort.  Orson opted to take the gamble of any unpleasant repercussions and enfolded Wilhuff’s lean frame in a firm embrace.  

“I think I know what you need.”

As predicted Tarkin drew in a sharp breath and stiffened in Orson’s grip before. Then, he sagged slightly and murmured, “Really now, Cal, I am due at a briefing in 15 minutes. I am already late. Due in a rather large part to your refusal on getting me my caf.”

_**[eustacefrog](http://eustacefrog.tumblr.com/) asked:** _

_**15\. “So, I found this waterfall…” Pairing Tarkin/Krennic** _

 

Orson’s body shook slightly as he laughed.  “No. Although that _would_ be a rather good idea. We have both been feeling a bit of pressure.  Why don’t you accompany me to Carttat?  I have some business to attend to there but I think we could both find a way to fold in a bit pleasure into the visit.  Join me. I’ll attend to the business matter and then perhaps we can unwind.  Shake this stale, recycled air out of our lungs.   The fresh air and sunlight will do you good.” Orson paused and when Wilhuff didn’t offer a counter argument, he forged on.   “It isn’t Eriadu and that damnable…Carrion…you seem to love slinking off to from time to time, but there are forests and fields.  If I am not mistaken there are even guided hunting excursions if that is something you would like to pursue.”  Pulling Will even closer, Orson brushed his lips over the exposed skin of Wilhuff’s neck.  “And perhaps we can explore…other activities?”

“And what is in it for you?” Wilhuff had rumbled, sinking ever so slightly into Orson’s embrace.  

“No longer having to deal with you being an insufferable ass.”

Wilhuff had finally grudgingly agreed (only after Orson had conceded to get that caf, even though it was most certainly _not_ his turn and that they take Wilhuff’s personal shuttle).

After they had landed and disembarked, meeting the droids scurrying forward to receive them and direct them to their quarters to get them settled, Orson could see an almost immediate change in Wilhuff’s demeanor.  His face seemed relaxed and Orson wasn’t quite sure but he could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. As they walked Orson had caught him on a few occasions with his face tilted upward basking in the warm caress of the sunlight as his eyes scanned the pristine azure sky.  

Sensing Orson’s gaze, Wilhuff turned and offered a tight smile. “You were right, Cal.   I hate to say it, but you were right.  This…this seems to be exactly what I needed.  One tends to forget how good the fresh air smells. Feels. It is rejuvenating. We haven’t been here 30 minutes and already I feel so much better.”  Wilhuff again closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath that expanded his chest before puffing it out in one long, cleansing exhalation. “Even if it is not the Carrion.  It will do. It will do rather nicely.”

Watching Wilhuff, Orson found himself smiling with genuine happiness.  It was exceedingly rare that Orson Callan Krennic put the wants and needs of others before his own without some ulterior motive.  But this…making his Wil smile…it held its own reward.

Over the next few days they both enjoyed all that Carttat had to offer.  At Orson’s insistence, Wil had briefly explored what guided hunting tours were available, but much to Orson’s surprise had passed on the opportunity, offering the excuse that he would rather use his own equipment for such pursuits.

Wilhuff’s vigor was restored and when he took Orson each evening, he pressed into him with a hot, hungry passion that Orson had almost forgotten Wil had even been capable of. His enthusiasm left Orson’s body with a pleasant soreness the next day and he took care to conceal the fresh bruises that had blossomed in the night.  

At last it was their final evening on Carttat.  Orson’s arm rested possessively over Wil’s chest, sweat cooling their bodies as they listened to the sounds of the nocturnal beasts floating through the open window.  The soft light of Carttat’s twin moons filtered through the gauzy curtains that fluttered and danced on the warm evening breeze.

“Thank you, Cal.”

Orson did not respond.

It was as near to bliss as either one of them could get.

Tracing a finger down Wil’s flank, taking delight in the soft murmur of pleasure his touch aroused, Orson rolled over, settling into the warmth of his lover’s body. “I was thinking about tomorrow.”

“Yes. Our last day here.”

_And then it was back to the stale air and controlled environment of the Executrix._

Wilhuff did not speak the words out loud but he might as well have.

“I thought we’d do some exploring.”

“Oh? That being?” Wil’s voice was low with contentment.  There was no hint of its usual caustic edge.

Orson propped himself up on an elbow. “So, I found this waterfall…when you were off checking into those hunting excursions I did a bit of exploring of my own.”  

“A….waterfall?” Tarkin sniffed yet his voice held an edge of amusement.  “And what are we then? A newly wedded couple celebrating our ceremony by taking in the romantic sights?”

“Stars no.” Orson snorted. “I just figured it would be a nice way to finish out the trip. Get as much fresh air as we can. Perhaps see if we can observe the local fauna, since you opted to pass on a hunt.”  When Wilhuff did not respond, Orson leaned close to Wil’s ear and whispered devilishly, “Or look at it this way.  It would be the perfect place to dispose of an annoyance.”

That comment managed to coax a short laugh.

Giving Wilhuff’s ear a gentle nip, Orson continued, “Well, if you were looking to get rid of me. For trying your patience and refusing to get you your caf.”  Orson settled in next to Wilhuff with a soft groan of contentment.

Wilhuff said nothing, only taking Orson’s warm, soft hand in his.  He was certain Orson had already drifted off when he murmured, “I won’t get rid of you yet, Cal. Not just yet.”


End file.
